


His Royal Highness, Prince Voldemort

by dotdotdotcolonO



Series: The Prince Journals [1]
Category: A Very Potter Musical Series - Team StarKid, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, StarKid Productions RPF, The Princess Diaries (Movies) RPF, The Princess Diaries - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Princess Diaries Fusion, F/F, F/M, Fluffy Ending, M/M, Quirrellmort - Freeform, bellatrix is a sassy b and i love her, lucius is a total jerk here sorry, quirrell smells awesome, teenage angst, this is also super cheesy but im embracing the cheese, voldemort is basically a teen girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24025660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotdotdotcolonO/pseuds/dotdotdotcolonO
Summary: Dad snapped his fingers in my face. “Listen to me, Thomas.”I narrowed my eyes dangerously at the use of my real name. Ugh, he knew I hated that stupid, lame name he’d given me at birth. Voldemort was much cooler, in my opinion.As per typical Dad fashion, he ignored me. “The truth is, you’re not Voldemort Riddle, a normal 16 year-old student at Hogwarts High School.” He stared me in the eyes solemnly. “You’re Prince Thomas Marvolo Grimaldi Riddle Renaldo, heir to the throne of Genovia.”My jaw dropped. What. The. [REDACTED]!!!!!!!!!!(basically, a Princess Diaries AU for Quirrellmort in which yes, Voldemort is Princess Mia because of his diary- excuse me, I mean JOURNAL- so yeah)
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Minerva McGonagall, Quirinus Quirrell/Tom Riddle, Quirinus Quirrell/Voldemort
Series: The Prince Journals [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733098
Comments: 15
Kudos: 19





	His Royal Highness, Prince Voldemort

**Author's Note:**

> I recently re-read some of the Princess Diaries and couldn’t stop thinking about Voldemort’s journal lol, so I decided to do this one-shot AU a few weeks ago! This is a series of snapshots from Books 1-3ish but only loosely based on the books since I can’t quite remember the exact details so I’ll definitely explain what’s going on in this fic, not to worry!
> 
> The characterization of Voldemort and Quirrell might be a tad OOC because I’m basing them on characters in the Princess Diaries universe. Readers of my other quirrellmort fic, [frightened by the bite (though it’s no harsher than the bark)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22941667?view_full_work=true), might be surprised at the change in both characterization and writing style, but I hope y’all still enjoy! This was definitely a challenge in terms of emulating Meg Cabot but it was really fun to try out her Diary-style of writing. 
> 
> I’m considering writing 1-2 more oneshots in this universe, but I’m still on the fence so please let me know if that’s something y’all would be interested in!! :)

November 7th, Riddle Loft

Dear ~~diary~~ _journal_ , you will not BELIEVE what just happened to me.

So, Dad just came back from his usual traipsing around Europe doing god knows what (or god knows _who_ \- yes, Dad, I totally know all about your weird, sexual exploits; I’m sixteen, not _stupid_ ugh) and dropped _a literal bomb on me_. Okay, fine, not an actual bomb. But pretty damn close, okay?!

Dad came by to “have a chat” with an uncharacteristically serious look on his mustached face. I immediately knew something was wrong; the poor man was sweating and stroking that damned mustache like some 80s villain.

“Dad, what’s up? You look…weird,” I questioned warily.

He sighed heavily at me and dropped the mustache-stroking, only to start running his hand through his non-existent hair. I eyed the action with a hefty amount of revulsion. All I could think about was how I was going to end up like my dad in forty years: bald and sporting a pornstache. _Ew_.

I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed in impatience.

“Voldemort, listen. There’s something very important that I need to share with you,” he started.

I arched an eyebrow in response.

Dad ignored my sassy brow and continued. “As you know, last year, I went through chemotherapy to treat my testicular cancer and thankfully, I’m currently cancer-free but…I’ve recently been told that I am now sterile.”

I flinched back in shock. “Oh my god, Dad, I’m so-”

“Let me finish,” he interjected. My mouth snapped closed. “I’m telling you this because you are now my sole heir.”

Pfft. I stifled a laugh at his words. “Sole heir”, come on, could there _be_ a more pretentious way to address your kid?

Dad snapped his fingers in my face. “Listen to me, Thomas.”

I narrowed my eyes dangerously at the use of my real name. Ugh, he knew I hated that stupid, _lame_ name he’d given me at birth. Voldemort was _much_ cooler, in my opinion.

As per typical Dad fashion, he ignored me. “The truth is, you’re not Voldemort Riddle, a normal 16 year-old student at Hogwarts High School.” He stared me in the eyes solemnly. “You’re Prince Thomas Marvolo Grimaldi Riddle Renaldo, heir to the throne of Genovia.”

My jaw dropped. What. The. [REDACTED].

!!!!!!!!

* * *

November 7th, New York Central Zoo

Journal, I am FREAKING OUT. I can’t be a Prince, _I can’t._ I am literally the least princely person I know. And that includes my mom’s new husband, that sandal-wearing hippie _weirdo_ , Dumbledore! Who, did I mention, is also my goddamn ALGEBRA TEACHER?! Argh, my life _sucks!_

I’m sitting glumly next to the snake enclosure right now, having run away from my dad after he broke the news. Thank god no one ever comes here, so I have the whole room to myself to scribble into my journal. Well, except for my friends, the snakes.

Damn it, even my favourite little bundles of slithery joy aren’t making me feel better at all. What am I going to _do?_ I’m not cut out to be the Prince of a sovereign principality that no one’s even heard of! I’m Voldemort Riddle, a below-average American teenager who is:

  1. A reckless delinquent who is the bane of every class in Hogwarts High School
  2. Failing English Lit miserably (and let’s be honest, most other subjects)
  3. Has godawful hair shaped like a yield sign, which is _by the way_ , shockingly white so I look like I’m a 70 year-old man from the back
  4. Hiding my embarrassing love for dancing and Zefron from the world, except for my best friend, which reminds me:
  5. Best friends with Quirinus Quirrell since the sandbox days (okay fine, this is actually a good thing because _man_ , I would be toast without Quirrell around)
  6. And lastly, having a stupidly major crush on HHS’s resident heartthrob, Lucius Malfoy (who has never even _looked_ at me ack)



So you see, I’m _clearly_ not Prince Thomas Marvolo Grima- UGH I can’t even bring myself to write down the full title! GAH, I’M IN A RAGE!!!!!!

Crap, the cleaning lady in the corner is sending me suspicious looks on account of my heavy, furious breathing. Psh, get over it, lady. I’m the freaking Prince of Genovia, my whole life is _over_. I send her a dirty stink-eye in response.

Wait, I think I see something. Oh my god, someone just grabbed my shoulder from behind!

Oh, it’s just Quirrell. Eh, I’m just gonna go ahead and keep writing while we talk, he’s used to my weird obsession with my ~~diary~~ journal.

So, apparently, Dad freaked out when I bolted and called Mom and Quirrell to help find me. Of course, Quirrell knew _exactly_ where I’d gone. Fortunately, he went to find me on his own, instead of leading the rest here, phew.

“Oh my god, thank you _so much_ , for not bringing the rest of my traitorous family here with you.” I clutched my chest in relief. “I could kiss you right now, you’re the _best_ , Quirrell!”

Curiously, Quirrell blushed. Huh. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, it _was_ pretty dim in the snake enclosure.

Anyways, I spilled everything to Quirrell. How my parents had been lying to me for my entire life, how I was now expected to become some stuffy, sophisticated prince (basically everything I’m not), and how I was just so _scared_.

Then, Quirrell, the bestest friend in the whole world, bundled me up in his arms and gave me the best hug ever. _Sigh_ , it was really nice, all warm and soothing. Quirrell’s hugs are seriously awesome.

“V-Voldemort, you’re going to be a great prince, I know it.”

I opened my mouth in protest. What was he even talking about, I’m the biggest failure in the history of failures!

He clamped a large hand over my mouth. “Shh, d-don’t interrupt me. All I want to say is, you’re capable of so much more th-than you believe. You’re strong, independent, b-brave, compassionate- yes, not about most people, but you care v-very strongly about the ones you love, and snakes too, I guess- and…and I believe in you. So please don’t run away or f-fake your death or any of those crazy ideas I know you have brewing in that head of yours. Just g-give it try, okay? For me?”

So, _of course_ I gave in to his sweet little puppy eyes and now I’m sitting in the back of a freaking _limo_ being driven to meet my Grandmére, who I now know is the Dowager Princess of Genovia. Huh, now that I think about it, that explains a lot of Grandmére’s eccentricities and general insanity. Oh no, we’ve reached the Plaza where she’s staying!!! God help me…

* * *

December 4th, Riddle Loft

Journal, why am I such an idiot? Really, is there a genetic reason why I have concentrated amounts of _stupid_ running through my veins? Was I cursed as a baby? Or am I just a complete and utter boob?

Let me start from the beginning. It’s been almost a month since I found out that I was a Prince. I’ve gotten _somewhat_ used to it: the bodyguard who follows me everywhere (yes, even the urinal, _ugh_ ), the Prince lessons with Grandmére which never fail to incite homicidal intent in me, the stupid limo with the Genovian flags waving merrily in the air, and even the weird 180 degrees change in the way everyone at HHS treats me now.

But I guess there were some perks about being a Prince too. Quirrell and I didn’t have to walk to school anymore; I could just come by to pick him up every morning in the limo. And I made a new friend! Bellatrix Black recently started at HHS and she had a bodyguard too, because her dad was a wealthy oil tycoon who was paranoid about someone ransoming her for cash. So, we naturally clicked and even Quirrell seemed to be slowly warming up to her, despite his initial iciness towards her. Oh, and my hair’s no longer yield-shaped! Grandmére did the first (and only) nice thing she’s ever done for me and hired Pâolo to fix the tragedy on my scalp. Needless to say, my freakishly silver long-ish hair actually looks like a _fashion statement_ now, not a hapless cry for help. But the best perk of all, Lucius Malfoy broke up with Cho Chang and asked me out! ME!!

I was so excited about it, I had nearly puked while gushing about it to Quirrell. He’d seemed a little green around the gills too when I told him, probably a reflex to my own almost-puke, I guess. So, in between freak outs, I’d dressed up, hassled Pâolo to style my hair, and met Lucius for our dinner date.

The date went okay, he talked a little too much about football but I mean, it was _Lucius Malfoy_ , the star quarterback, I was lucky enough to even be in his presence. We were strolling down a romantic stretch of the New York Central Park, when he’d turned towards me suddenly.

Taken aback, I’d asked, “What are you-”

AND THEN HE KISSED ME!!!! Lucius freaking Malfoy grabbed my shoulders and _planted his lips on me!_

I’d barely had a second to react though, because I was immediately blinded by flashes of light surrounding us. That’s right, Lucius Malfoy had called the paparazzi to capture every moment of him sticking his tongue down my throat. I’d ripped away from him, staring in horror at the dozen or so cameras pointing at my rapidly reddening face. Naturally, I’d lost all of my Princely senses that Grandmére had been spending every afternoon drilling into me, and clocked him in the face. The circle of paps around us gasped collectively.

“I’m bleeding!” he’d cried, clutching his nose that had erupted like Vesuvius.

“That’s what you get for being such a jerk, Malloy.” I kicked him in the butt with one of my steel-toed combat boots for good measure.

He clutched at his buttocks in shock. “It’s _Malfoy_ , you buffoon! And my father will hear of this,” he threatened.

I scoffed in his face, “Whatever, Milfoy. Tell that to _my_ father, the sovereign monarch of Genovia.”

Then, I’d walked away with my head held high, pretending to be a bad-ass boss bitch when in actuality, I’d just wanted to shrivel up and _die_ of mortification.

And now I’m back home, sobbing my eyes out about how _stupid_ I am. For Zefron’s sake, how could I have _ever_ liked that pompous creep? I mean, what kind of person kisses another just to get it posted onto every major news network in the world? Well, I mean I _guess_ I can imagine why someone would want to do that for fame or whatever. But I just never thought it would ever happen to _me_.

Great, now Mom’s pounding at my bedroom door. Why won’t she just go away and leave me alone with the ground to swallow me up whole? I don’t think I can stay in NYC after this; maybe I _should_ move to Genovia, like Dad and Grandmére keep asking me to. I put down my journal to grab my pillow from the head of my bed.

In response to her infernal knocking, I threw my pillow as hard as I could against the door. The knocking stopped. Ugh, _finally_.

Then, the door creaked open slowly. I froze. I jolted up from the pathetic lump I’d made on the mattress. Quirrell popped his head in, his brown eyes finding mine immediately. Without a word, he strode in and wrapped his arms around me, giving me one of his amazing, warm hugs. A fresh wave of tears came spilling out as I buried my face into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, clutching desperately at him.

“Shh, there, there,” he cooed softly in my ear, stroking my hair gently.

A warm feeling bloomed in my chest. Quirrell really was the sweetest, most amazing friend anyone could ever ask for. I sniffled slightly before peeling myself off him. “Thanks, Quirrell. I really needed that,” I smiled wateringly at him.

The fluttering in my tummy increased exponentially at the blinding smile I received in return. I brought him close once more, initiating the hug for the first time. My stomach clenched as I breathed in the clean, intoxicating scent of him. I inhaled deeply, nosing my way into his neck-

Wait a minute, why did I just write that the smell of Quirrell’s neck drives me crazy?

Oh. My. _God_. I think the whole world just tilted on its axis.

Do I…Have I been blind this whole time? Had I been so idiotically fixated on Lucius Malfoy that I hadn’t realized the amazing man that had been in front of me?? Holy crap, I think…I think I might be in love with my best friend. OH MY GOD, I’M IN LOVE WITH QUIRRELL!

* * *

December 5th, G&T Class

So, I just broke the news to Bellatrix about my revelation last night. You know, the one where I realized I was basically the guy in Taylor Swift’s ‘You Belong With Me’ music video and Quirrell was Taylor.

Now, get this: Bellatrix looked at me, all deadpan and unimpressed, and went, “Duh.”

What??? What the hell did she mean “Duh”?

She then rolled her eyes at me and explained, “Voldemort, I know I’ve only known you for like, a month, but even _I_ could tell there was something between you two. I mean, it’s so obvious!”

At this point, I started sputtering like the fish out of water. What-What the hell did she mean it was _obvious?_ Oh my Zefron, had my feelings been so clear as day to everyone else? Then, why didn’t she tell me; _why_ did she let me go out with freaking Lucius Malfoy? Crap, did Quirrell totally know about how I felt about him?!

“Why do you think Quirrell got all threatened when I came along?” She raised her eyebrow sassily. “It’s because he was jealous, _duh_. And I didn’t tell you to quit it with Malfoy, because I knew that you had to come to your own conclusions, it was the only way,” she shrugged.

Wait, what was that about Quirrell being jealous? For someone who claimed to have an IQ of 170, she _clearly_ had a wire loose in that noggin of hers. There was _no way_ Quirrell liked me in that sense, he just saw me as a friend. I told her as such, my heart twinging in my chest.

Bellatrix merely sighed exasperatedly at me. “Oh well, guess I’ll have to wait for you to have _yet another_ revelation. You’re so freaking dense, Voldemort.” Then, she rolled her eyes so hard I thought they would pop out, and changed the subject to ranking celebrity Ryans in their order of hotness.

Psh, there was _nothing_ to be dense about. Quirrell. Does. Not. Like. Me. That. Way. End of story. I think _she’s_ the one with the dense cheesecake brain, not me. As much as I’d love for her words to be true, they’re quite clearly delusional.

Five reasons why Quirrell only sees me as a friend:

  1. We’ve known each other since we were in diapers
  2. I’m at his place constantly to escape my crazy family, so his parents treat me as a second son…which would make me his _brother_ , ew!
  3. I’m a freakish snake-face loser, with albeit better hair, and my only friends are snakes, Quirrell, Bella, my bodyguard and my parents
  4. AND NOT TO MENTION, I’M THE PRINCE OF GENOVIA aka THE _PLAGUE_ OF GENOVIA
  5. Meanwhile, Quirrell is an extremely smart, gorgeous, sweet, amazing person who deserves so much better than I can ever give him



:(

Dang it, now I’m depressed.

* * *

December 12th, Quirinus Household

The universe _totally_ has it out for me. In a past life, I must’ve been a mass murderer, or some sort of evil dictator, or I don’t know, a Taylor Lautner fan. The point is, the universe freaking _hates_ me.

Today, I went over to Quirrell’s house as usual, because he’s been helping to tutor me in English Lit so I don’t flunk out of high school. Things have been…tense between us lately. Ever since I discovered my feelings for him, I didn’t know _how_ to act around him anymore! Every little thing sent my pulse racing: Quirrell drinking water? Hot. Quirrell reading JAusten to me? Hot. Quirrell chewing on his pen? Hot. Quirrell breathing? HOT. I could barely maintain eye contact for more than 2 seconds without blushing, for Zefron’s sake!

Anyways, when I got to Quirrell’s, I didn’t bother with knocking and just strolled into his room, as per normal. Biggest mistake of my LIFE. Journal, you would not _believe_ the sight that greeted me. Two words: Quirrell. Shirtless.

!!!!!!!!

I froze, my face turning scarlet instantly. My mouth gaped open.

Quirrell whipped around and squeaked. “V-V-Voldemort!”

I remained mum, staring at him with wide eyes. My jaw had yet to pick itself up from the floor. I’d never noticed the lean muscles that adorned Quirrell’s frame before. But there they were, drawing my eyes like bees to honey. My gaze traced over his slim, but muscled figure greedily. My face was so red I thought I was going to spontaneously combust. (Note to self: Google search whether it is possible to explode out of lust)

“C-Could you just- just give me a m-moment?” Quirrell stammered, using his arms to cover his rapidly reddening chest.

My senses flooded back into me. I realized that I’d been staring at him in silence like some lecherous playground pedophile! I slapped my hand over my eyes and darted out of the room, yelling a quick “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” on the way out.

 _Idiot_ , I’d scolded myself. It was bad enough I’d barged into him changing like that. It was worse that I’d just drooled over him instead of leaving immediately like a _decent_ human being! I buried my face in my hands, groaning in humiliation. That was it. The jig was up; Quirrell would _totally_ know about my feelings for him now and this would be the end of our friendship!!!

The sound of a door opening caught my attention. I lifted my head to see Quirrell exiting his room, a sheepish expression on his still pink face.

“S-Sorry, Voldemort, I had no idea you were already here. If I’d known, I would’ve p-put on a shirt first, rather than subject you to s-seeing the noodles masquerading as my arms,” he ducked his head in embarrassment, not meeting my eyes.

My heart skipped a beat in shock. What was Quirrell even _talking_ about? Did he not realize how gorgeous he was?!

Without thinking, I blurted out, “What noodles? Quirrell, you look fantastic!”

His eyes widened, taken aback by my words. “W-What do you mean? I know I’m the skinniest guy in our grade, Voldemort, you d-don’t need sugarcoat it.”

Like I had no control over my body, I saw myself cross the room in a heartbeat, till I was right in front of him. “Quirrell, seriously, I’m not kidding. You’re beautiful. Don’t you _ever_ think otherwise,” I spoke earnestly.

Half a second later, my mind registered what had just left my mouth. OH MY GOD! What the Zefron did I just say to him?! I can’t believe I just told Quirrell that he was beautiful, TO HIS FACE!!!!!

“I-I mean, you shouldn’t think so poorly of yourself, Quirrell. Everyone is beautiful if they _believe_ that they’re beautiful. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, remember?”

I face-palmed. Did I really just use that cheesy motivational poster line?

Surprisingly, it seemed to work. Quirrell smiled shyly at me, making my heart start beating to the rhythm of _Qui-rrell, Qui-rrell, Qui-rrell_ all over again.

Then, guess what? We spent the next THREE HOURS discussing Pride and Prejudice, when all I could think about was Quirrell’s chest. While sitting next to Quirrell. It was the _worst_ form of torture imaginable. Seriously, what did I ever do to deserve this?

Oh crap, Quirrell’s coming back. Got to go!

* * *

December 24th, Riddle Loft

I’m so nervous, I think I’m going to vomit. Today is the day of the non-denominational winter dance aka the Christmas dance, which was renamed for religious sensitivity. And guess who asked me to the dance? You guessed it, QUIRRELL!!

Okay fine, he didn’t actually ask _ask_ me. It was more of a “You don’t have a date to the dance, right? Well, neither do I! Maybe we should just go together then, as per usual,” type of deal. But still, the two of us will be riding the limo there together, sitting together, eating together, _dancing_ together. My heart is leaping just thinking about it.

Mom poked her head in. “Aw, Voldemort, you look so handsome in your tux! Quirrell is going to have an aneurysm when he sees you.”

“Mooooom, you can’t say stuff like that, _especially_ not when Quirrell arrives. You know that we’re just friends,” I groaned at her, my cheeks heating up rapidly.

She just smirked in response, “Mmhmm, _sure_ you are.”

The sound of the doorbell ringing drew us out of our conversation. Crap, he was already here?

Mom squealed, clapping her hands together. “Pictures! We’re going to take lots and lots of pictures!”

I grumbled heavily as she snapped like, a million photos of me and Quirrell. Man, Quirrell looked _so good_ though. He’d styled his usual (adorably) messy hair into a coiffed, suave ‘do. And his _suit_ , oh my god. It emphasized his deceptively broad shoulders and lithe figure. I may or may not have drooled when I first laid eyes on him. The moment our eyes met was like _magic_ , I swear. We’d shared an intense, deep look into each other’s eyes…before Mom came bustling in with her camera, ruining it. _Thanks a lot_ , Mom.

I blushed as Mom ordered us to stand closer together. Quirrell looped an arm over my shoulder, while I looped mine around his waist. The heat from his body made me shiver paradoxically. His embrace was so nice and warm and his arm felt so _right_ , holding me close to him. Plus, the close proximity allowed me to take a whiff of his uniquely Quirrell scent (yes, I know I’m a weirdo, we’ve already established that fact) and I struggled to not swoon.

Crap, Quirrell’s looking at me weirdly for blushing furiously while I scribble this on the way to the dance. Get it together, Voldemort; he only sees you as a _friend_ , nothing more. God, this is going to be a long night.

* * *

December 25th, outside of the Waldorf-Astoria

I’m so sorry, Journal. You’ve been my faithful companion since I was 13 and when something important _actually_ happened, I totally forgot all about you. Let me make it up to you by telling you everything now, okay?

So, we got to the dance and things were fine. The ballroom was really pretty actually, they’d decorated it with fake foam snowflakes and there was romantic music being crooned over the speakers. We met up with Bella and her date, _Minerva McGonagall_ of all people, and just sat around our table talking. It was nice, kind of like our usual lunch breaks, which was fine, totally and completely _fine_. It’s not like I’d expected us to actually do couple-y things like dancing or holding each other or whatever.

Then, that total byotch, Bellatrix Black, LEFT ME! She winked secretly at me before whisking Minerva away to dance, which left me and Quirrell sitting awkwardly at the table, _alone_. I drummed my fingertips on the tabletop, thinking of what to say to him. Things had never been awkward between us before; it was my stupid feelings’ fault that our friendship had this weird tension perpetually lingering in the air now.

“Quirrell, I-”

“So, Voldemort-”

Blushing heavily, the words died on my lips. We shared an uncomfortable chuckle.

Quirrell took a deep breath and tried again, “Voldemort, do…do you want to d-dance?”

My head snapped up like a jack-in-a-box. Did he just say what I _think_ he just said? I stared at him in shock. I watched his face pinken under my astounded scrutiny. Oh my god, he _did_ ask me to dance! I squealed internally like a pre-teen girl (yes, yes, I’m pathetic, but the boy I LOVE had just asked me to DANCE ahhh!!!!!!!).

“YES!” I cleared my throat. “I mean, yes, of course I’d love to dance,” I smiled broadly at him.

Biting my lip to hold in a shriek of joy, I took his offered hand and followed him onto the dance floor. At first, we had a mix up on who was supposed to lead the dance, fumbling with where to put our hands on each other. Finally, Quirrell said, “Voldemort, why d-don’t you lead? You _are_ the dancer here.”

I blushed before assuming the leading position. It was like a dream. Holding Quirrell in my arms, swaying to the dulcet tones of one of Bruno Mars’ love songs, I felt myself falling deeper and deeper in love with my best friend. Even though he was slightly taller than me, he laid his head gently on my shoulder and it somehow _worked_. I’d never felt such peace and happiness since the day I learnt that I was a Prince.

I still couldn’t believe how long it had taken me to realize how much I cared for the other. Quirrell was the one constant in my life who was always supporting me, caring for me, believing in me when no one else did. If it wasn’t for him, I was pretty sure I’d be a much worse person than I was, probably would be doing drugs and selling them to my fellow students. Or maybe I would be fancying myself some sort of gangster, terrorizing the streets of NYC.

Instead, here I was, just a boy, standing in front of another boy, hoping he loved me back. At that moment, I realized that Quirrell was _it_ for me. Which was ridiculous, because we were even _anything_ at that point. But it was true. Quirrell was the light that chased away the darkness in my life. Quirrell was the one who stood by me and helped me through my initial struggle to come to terms with being bi, back when we were 13. Quirrell was the one who comforted me when my first snake, Nagini, passed and prepared a funeral even when my mom chastised me for being silly. Quirrell was the one who proudly came out as gay when we were 14, holding my hand tightly through it all. Quirrell was the one who gave me a home every time I couldn’t stand staying with my insane family anymore. Quirrell was the one who never treated me differently after I discovered that I was royalty. Quirrell was the one who taught me how to _love_.

I gazed deeply into his chocolate brown eyes. To my surprise, I saw tumultuous emotions swirling in his orbs as well. My heart stuttered. His eyes drew me in, and I unknowingly leaned closer, pulled in by an irresistible magnetic force. A wave of his clean, Quirrell scent hit me. He leaned in too, so close that our breaths mingled in the space between our faces.

Everything around us faded away. In that instant, Quirrell and I were the only ones in that ballroom. My heart thudded rapidly in my chest, so loud that Quirrell must have heard it too. His gaze flicked down, oh so briefly, to my lips. My breath caught in my throat.

I don’t know which of us did it, maybe we both leaned in at the same time, but the next thing I knew, we were kissing. His incredibly soft lips were pressed against mine gently, a feather light brush that sent thrills down my spine. I shifted closer to lick the seam of his lips when it hit me. OH MY GOD, I’M KISSING QUIRRELL!

I jolted backwards in shock, staring at him with wide eyes. A dazed expression was donned on his face. Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap! I knew Quirrell didn’t like me that way, and I _still_ threw away our 12-year friendship by forcing a kiss on him. Why do I _always_ screw everything up?

“Oh my god, Quirrell, I’m so sorry, I don’t know _what_ I was thinking,” I rambled frantically. “Please don’t hate me, I hope we can still be friends after this. I-I’ve got to go,” I blinked back the sting of tears that were welling up in my eyes. How could I have been so _stupid_ to throw myself at him like that?

“Voldemort, wait-!” I didn’t pause to hear him reject me gently. I ran from him, out of the Waldorf-Astoria and onto the street, where the frigid cold air froze the tears on my cheeks.

My heart twisted violently in my chest. Is this what a broken heart felt like? I should make good on Dad’s offer to bring me to Genovia permanently, because I don’t think I could stand seeing him every day, knowing that I’d ruined everything. What the hell was I _thinking?_ To just force myself on him like that, in front of the entire school, no less. I was no better than Lucius Malfoy. A sob rose in my throat. My bodyguard looked pitying at me from the side.

“Voldemort!”

I whipped around at the sound of my name. Quirrell stood at the door to the Waldorf-Astoria, red-faced and panting. Shock froze me in place as he strode determinedly towards me. _Oh god_ , he was going to do it now. He was going to tell me about how he only saw me as a friend and would _never_ be able to see me as anything more. This was the moment our friendship would be _over_.

He stopped in front of me, inches away. I opened my mouth to say- something, _anything_ , to delay the inevitable. Then, he wrapped a large hand around the back of my neck and crushed his lips to mine.

OH. MY. ZEFRON.

!!!!!!

I remained frozen in utter surprise for 5 seconds. Then, I melted against him, molding my lips to his. I grabbed the front lapels of his suit in my hands and tugged him closer. Our bodies melded together like we were made for each other. I moaned in surprise as his hand raked through the silver coif that Pâolo had spent 2 hours on. His tongue swept into my mouth and slid deliciously along the swell of my bottom lip. I shuddered in delight, responding enthusiastically to his ministrations. It was only when we couldn’t breathe anymore, did we finally separate from our embrace.

I stared at him in wonder. He looked utterly ravished: lips swollen, hair mussed, cheeks flushed, pupils dilated. His eyes focused and looked intently into mine.

“Voldemort, you have to know, _I love you_. I think I’ve always been in love with you, but I’ve only begun to realize it this year.” My mouth went slack in shock. I also noticed that he’d managed to not even stutter _once_. “Please, say something,” he pleaded, brown eyes wide.

My heart fluttered wildly in my ribcage. At that moment, I was so happy I think I could’ve literally burst. Okay wait, no _ew_ , that just gives me the imagery of my entrails exploding out onto the front steps of the Waldorf-Astoria. I can totally see the headline, ‘Lovestruck Prince Thomas defies the laws of nature to explode violently over a boy!’ Gross. What I _mean_ to write is: OMG JOURNAL, QUIRRELL LOVES ME BACK!!!!!!!

I reached for his hands and held them tightly in mine. “I love you too, Quirrell. I thought you didn’t see me that way, that you only saw me as a friend,” I replied in earnest.

A stunning smile graced Quirrell’s features, like the sun emerging from behind the clouds. Overjoyed, he pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “Oh, thank god, you had me w-worried there. Is _that_ why you ran? Because you thought I didn’t like you?”

I nodded in response.

Quirrell chuckled. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Bellatrix is right in w-what she’s always saying: you _are_ the densest cheesecake in HHS.” I gasped in offense. “ _How_ could you think I didn’t like you? I’ve been pining a-after you for months, I thought it was so obvious! _You_ were the one crushing on Malfoy,” he reminded me.

My cheeks coloured in embarrassment. _Right_. “We-ell, it was actually the night that you comforted me about Malfoy, when I realized that I was in love with you all along. So…I guess he was actually a pretty important part of us admitting our feelings to each other. And despite me being the ‘densest cheesecake’, everything still ended up okay, right?” I fiddled sheepishly with the front of his suit.

His mouth twisted in displeasure. “I still don’t like the guy,” he grumbled. “But-” He bit his lip hesitantly. “But is okay…good?” He looked shyly at me.

I don’t know how it was anatomically possible, but I swear that my heart _smiled_. “Quirrell, okay is _wonderful!_ ”

Our lips met again in celebration. I clutched him to me tightly as snow drifted down gently upon us, small pricks of cold that melted upon encountering our entwined bodies. I smiled against his lips, heart brimming with happiness.

It felt like my entire life had been an unsolved jigsaw puzzle and at that moment, it was as if all the pieces had finally fit together. Quirrell was the missing piece, the light in the darkness, the fire in the cold. Quirrell was wonderful.

**Author's Note:**

> Really hope y'all liked this! Positive and constructive feedback is welcomed! Please let me know your thoughts :) Again, please let me know if you'd be interested in more oneshots in this universe!
> 
> For reference, Voldemort is Mia, Quirrell is a Lily/Michael hybrid, Bellatrix is a bitchier Tina with Lily’s personality, Lucius is Josh Richter and Dumbledore is Mr G. Voldemort’s Mom, Dad and Grandmére are sourced directly from the books. Some direct nods to the Princess Diaries include yield-shaped hair and Voldemort’s obsession with the smell of Quirrell’s neck.


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